Back On The Chain Gang

Someone said this next post was ‘inspirational’. That’s nice but all I can remember is that heavy heart feeling; it seemed as if I was carrying a ton weight round in my chest. One of those times where you think of the place and the whole atmosphere overwhelms you, as if you were back there and it was THEN again. I leave the post as it is but even reading it now is painful.

I could never get insurance for Gail due to her poor health but I wished I’d tried a little harder. I eventually got one of those ‘No questions asked over-50’ things but even so I should have invested more in it. Finance? At a time like this? Yes! This was 10th September and I was back at work. It’s too early. You may not think it is – “Oh it will be good for you to take your mind off things” – but it is. I urge you. Get decent insurance. I know it sounds too unemotional but it’s not. You need a decent payout so you can take a year out without worrying about anything. DO it. Now.

So first proper day of work today. “How’d that go Blagg?” I hear you ask. Well, the network hadn’t been configured properly so I couldn’t train on the Hand Held Terminals and had to do two training sessions theory only. Believe me, this is no way to learn a new system. So I wanted to tell someone, but the someone I usually speak too isn’t here any more. I can’t tell you how weird that felt. I kept looking at my phone and no bastard had rung me ten times. Remember how I used to complain about getting so many calls? To paraphrase Oscar ‘the only thing worse than getting phone calls is NOT getting phone calls’. The place is right next to Brighton Marina though, so it made sense to stay at the nearest hotel. Bad move. This is a Gail hotel. She’d have loved it here. Sparkle, chrome, ambient music. I celebrated my first day back at work by breaking down and howling into a wonderful plate of seafood spaghetti. Tears add some piquancy to a dish I find. Must remember that when the book gets published and John Torode asks me onto Masterchef. ‘Let the fun be Gin’ it says behind me. ‘Do fuck off” I say to my complimentary Tequila Sunrise.

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